#kormiel oc

[witchthewriter]

𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑒𝑛.

Personalised story for @leniabranch Pairing: Otto Hightower x Lenia Branch Word Count: 2k Warning: Fluff, pure and insufferable fluff! Authors Note: If anyone wants a personalised story, here’s my PayPal and send me a message and we can get started!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔

Walking On Water by George Fenton

Valerie by the Midnite Quartet

      “That’s not the way I heard it,” Sanah closed her mouth over the goblet and sipped. The mulled wine was sub-par, but she drank it anyway. Hells knew she needed the liquid courage. Her eyelids had been brushed with the slightest of colour, and red rouge on her high cheekbones. She looked stunning. Sanah stared out the window and sighed. The day turned spectacularly. For the harsh wind and pelting rain, had turned contentedly warm. But your younger sister barely noticed. Sanah was much too nervous. Her leg hadn’t stopped bouncing, even when you pointed it out, multiple times.  

 “And how exactly did you hear it?” You mused as the servant manoeuvred so she could stand behind Sanah. You too were holding a goblet of the same wine. It was a full-bodied red that had notes of black fruit and pepper spice.

You watched with flushed cheeks, as this had been your second cup and you were nearly finished, as the servant placed the pins in your sister’s hair. House Branch had many traditions, and one of them was twenty priceless pearls, each embedded onto a pin. They had been handed down to each woman, on her wedding day.

   Sitting at the vanity table, Sanah’s reflection stared at you through the mirror, and she gave you a wink.

   “I cannot give up my sources of information,” she said with red lips.

You playfully rolled your eyes in response.

   A creak sounded from the other side of the room. The doors opened and two sets of feet were scampering towards you.

   “No running!” Your mother called over her shoulder while closing the doors. You looked up and saw her in the most beautiful gown. Well, second to Sanah’s – Onatah looked radiant. Her gown swept the floor with graceful ease, and yet her face gave her true feelings away. Although nearly in her fifties, your mother looked as if she was part star. Her long brown hair had been braided over her shoulder, and the sleeves of the gown lingered just above the floor. You could see the golden thread of leaf detailing that Sanah had spent hours getting right. It was tedious, and with the wedding planning, she had been nearly intolerable.

   “Sah-sah, Leni! Look!” your youngest sibling and second brother ran towards the two of you. His brown hair a curly mess, and his shirt was missing a button, the little Branch held something in his tiny hands.

   “What have you got there, Lu?” Opening his hands, he showed the little creature with a proud smile.

“A mouse! He has a mouse!” Elrie started screaming. She was nearing the age of ten and had become accustomed to dramatics. Your mother sighed, lifted her skirts, and drifted over to Lucieth, who was still holding the brow mouse. Elrie, shoes on and all, had jumped on the bed, her howls never ceasing.

   Sanah only laughed as she sat, so much so that she had to put her cup down. Her belly laughs made Lucieth confused, his eyebrows knitting together.

  “Is only little?” he whispered, starting to pout. He had been forbidden to bring anything bigger than his hand size into the castle. Lucieth looked up at you with those big brown eyes and you melted. The youngest Branch was always finding animal friends. It was rare that his pockets were empty, or that he wasn’t being followed. On Lu’s third trip to the town markets, he befriended three stray cats and they followed him to the castle gates.

  “Oh, Elrie stop it,” your mother huffed, sweat gathering at her brow. Onatah thought she was used to children, seeing as though she raised three almost perfectly good adults. But there seemed to be a rift, or jealousy from Elrie towards Lucieth, that appeared the day he was born. In the three, nearly four years, Elrie hadn’t gotten used to being a middle child. You could often find her with her arms crossed over her chest and face scrunched. Usually, because Lucieth was picked up first or tended to before she. It must be tough, you often thought.

                                                           -✶-

     It had been years since the invasion of Dorne, and much had happened since then. Investigations and enquiries were made throughout King’s Landing. Many answers were found, and the most valuable of those had come to light. Grand Maester Runciter. The man who sat on King Viserys council had gotten too close with his student, Gelford Spyre. An ambitious young man who thought he could outwit the great Houses of Westeros. And he did. For three years he had been planning the infiltration of King’s Landing.

    If it wasn’t for Daemon and Rhaenyra, the city would have been lost.

                                                           -✶-

     In the corridor before the closed doors, you looked at your sister. The sunlight filtered through the open windows, creating slices of warmth. Sanah turned to you with her bright eyes and gave you a slight smile. You knew exactly what she was thinking. Who would have thought? You did. You knew she would be married one day, to a man who deserved her. Who would do anything for her. And you knew Ormund would.

 You could hear the band take up the bridal tune, and your mother fluttered about your sister, preening and smoothing.

   “Mama, please,” Sanah groaned, trying to bat away your mother’s insistent hands.

         Lucieth and Elrie were standing at the front doors, their hands clasping tight to the petal basket. Neither were nervous, as they knew only family were on the other side of the door. Both Sanah and Ormund didn’t want a grand affair, even though King Viserys was adamant that he would pay for everything, and anything they desired. Ormund was the hero of King’s Landing, the one who freed both the King and the guards.

   But in the fashion that was both your sister and her fiancé, they denied any glamour or attention. And yet, the Houses of Hightower and Branch filled the hall. As did King Viserys, Daemon, Rhaenyra and Alicent. Along with Aegon, who was now nearing his fourth year.

 Sanah’s, and your own bouquets were the same. Flowers of peony, baby’s breath, and light pink carnations were wrapped together in a munch with silver ribbon. The same ribbon had been braided into your own hair and carefully twisted so it hung down your back.

   Suddenly, Kormiel appeared with a large grin on his bearded face.

   “Daughter!” He bellowed, loudly too, as he didn’t care in the slightest if the guests heard. Kormiel was a proud father. The first of his children to be married. He looked upon his third-born child with so much joy that tears brimmed his eyes. There was a change in Sanah then, and only someone as close as a sister could see it. Her back was straighter and her hands had stopped fiddling.

   “Papa,” she replied, with a dimpled grin. Her blonde hair looked so golden, compared to Kormiel’s white hair. He had aged in the past years, but his personality hadn’t.  

  Darick stood behind his father, a carnation pinned to his jacket. He had been pulled to one knee as Lu showed him the brown mouse. No one had taken it off of the little Branch, as Sanah insisted the creature be a part of the wedding party.

   “Lu!” Your mother groaned, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Elrie let out a little giggle as Darick poked her in the stomach. She had grown to adore her older brother these past years.

   You laughed, unable to stop yourself. Your heart felt warm and full. This was a day you never wanted to forget, you wished you could take a part of this moment and carry it with you forever. Oh, how you loved your family, and the way your father’s shoulders bounced up and down when he laughed. How your mother shook her head with a slight smile, how Sanah gave you knowing looks, always able to read your mind. And Darick’s good heart, Elrie’s hopefulness and Lu’s love for creatures, big and small. How lucky am I, to have been born into this House, you thought. A contented smile growing on your lips.

                                                          -✶-

“Ready?”

     Sanah looped her arm between both her father’s and mother’s. Your sister was a woman who broke tradition, and now she did so without hesitation. You and Darick looked at each other, he stood in front of you, holding the rings. Behind you, you could hear your parent’s soft bickering. Looking behind, you shushed them, just as the doors opened.

   Like a wave, the guests stood to attention. The music sounded and the two youngest Branches took their cue. The petals littered the floor with white and cream, as the wedding party walked. The guests cooed and awed, as the children flung fistfuls of the petals into the air. They were without strategy, and got most of it on Darick, tried to step out of the firing line.

       You were used to people’s eyes upon you, but it never got easier. You were glad the dress was long, as you thought your knees were shaking. But your nerves seemed to get better and then a whole lot worse, as you spotted him in the crowd. The ghost of a smile was upon his lips, as he watched you intently. Gone were the days of meek, stolen glances. Otto Hightower looked at you with an unmet need.

    The guests tried to hide their shock as Sanah walked down the aisle with both her parents to give her away. Some had their thoughts written plainly on their faces; aghast. You did all you could not to roll your eyes. Both parents were important in their child’s life. Equal caregivers, so why should one do the honour of helping their child step into a new era of their life?

    You took your place opposite Ormund. He was standing there with his hands behind his back and the most un-Ormund-like expression on his face. The groom wore Hightower colours, with hints of black and pale green, as were the colours of House Branch. Ormund was doing his best to stay still, you could see that. But he couldn’t see anyone but Sanah.

   Ormund’s eldest brother, Hobert, stood next to Otto with pursed lips and flared nostrils. Well, you’re in it now Hobey, you thought, nearly giggling. God, that wine had gotten to you. Your attention turned to your sister as they reached the dais, where the Grand Maester stood. Neither Ormund nor your sister wanted a religious figure to wed them, as neither believed in religion. You couldn’t blame them.

  No one stood next to Ormund, and soon, neither did Sanah. You kissed your sister, took her flowers, and sat beside your mother and brother.

 You took in the details of the Great Hall. Viserys had paid for all the flowers, as hundreds of them had been twisted around the pillars. All windows were opened to let in the natural light, creating a warm haze. The musicians had stopped their playing as the Grand Maester began.

                                                             -✶-

    The ceremony was over, and the reception was in full swing. The Branch musicians, and your mother, began a hearty tune. People got up from their seats and began to dance. Most of the dancefloor occupants were Branches, as the Hightowers hadn’t drunk enough to let loose. Ormund was swinging Sanah about, laughing without caution.

 You felt someone stand next to you and you looked up. Otto stared at you with a humble grin, as he often did. Your relationship was complicated. The feelings were still there, and since delivering his grandson all those years ago, he had been upfront with how he felt.

  Now it felt like a dance. A game. Cat and mouse.

“You look beautiful,” he uttered, handing you a full goblet of wine.

   You took it and thanked him. You brought the cup to your lips and drank deeply. The contents not helping the growing heat at your core.